The JOURNAL of RELIGION and PSYCHICAL RESEARCH
Dying, Death & After Death: Random Musing
Concerning the Spiritually Challenged
by Michael E. Tymn
Abstract: The serious student of psychical research is certain
to encounter friends, relatives, associates and acquaintances who are puzzled
by his interest, especially his interest in death and, concomitantly, the
survival of consciousness. Some will scoff, some will snicker, some will
smirk, some will simply smile and sympathetically shake their heads. The
author often finds himself musing over such reactions, reciprocally puzzled
by the obstinacy of some and the credulity of others, all the while subjecting
his own views to a critical examination. This article represents such random
musing.
The only really blind are those who will not see the truth
- those who shut their eyes to spiritual vision
-Helen Keller (Keller 1994, 154)
"When you're dead, you're dead," my doctor proclaimed quite authoritatively,
as if his medical training had qualified him in subjects beyond the earthly
shell. His comment was prompted by having noticed a book about near-death
experiences I had brought to read in his waiting room.
"The most important thing to know about death is that you'd better make
the most of what time you have," the doctor added in such a way as to clearly
drive across the point that he does not believe in the survival of consciousness.
While I fully agreed with his comment about making the most of this
lifetime, I doubted that we were anywhere near agreement on our underlying
reasons. As I have come to understand it, life is a learning experience
aimed at an ultimate graduation to something much greater - a Godhead that
no human can really comprehend - and death, except for those ready to graduate,
is merely a transition to another phase of that learning experience. Can
anyone who does not believe in survival of consciousness view life as a
learning experience? Where would the lessons be applied? What is the point
of it all?
The doctor expressed concern that my interest in such a morbid subject
might indicate depression, perhaps even thoughts of suicide. I informed
him that such was definitely not the case. I wanted to explain to him that
I consider death a very positive and uplifting subject, that the study
of it helps me embrace this life in a much more courageous and fulfilling
way, that it helps me be a better person, that it just simply makes me
feel good. I wanted to recite the words of transpersonal counselor and
author Lily Fairchilde:
"We cannot begin to live fully until we come to terms with the reality
of death. We cannot know true courage until we look death in the face and
see that it is not a voracious monster with yawning jaws that will eventually
gobble up everything we hold precious, but instead a thing of beauty and
wonder and great adventure. We will never be free to love fully and without
fear until we know deep in our hearts the truth that love never dies, but
lives on, along with those we have loved, forever." (Fairchilde, 1997,
intro xviii)
I wanted to engage the good doctor in a discussion on the subject, to
ask him how much, if anything, he knows about near-death experiences, whether
he is aware of the growing body of evidence - even if no more purely scientific
than his profession -gathered by reputable physicians and scientists in
support of the validity of the NDE. I wanted to ask him if he has investigated
psychic phenomena and the paranormal or if he has come to his conclusions
from the superficial remarks of his colleagues. I wanted to ask him how
much of his profession is probability, or just possibility, rather than
certainty.
Cynical Snickers
But I hesitated and said nothing. I knew he did not have the time to discuss
the subject in a meaningful way. It is far too complex, too subjective,
too abstract, too controversial, too paradoxical. One cannot in a few minutes
turn a subject of supposed morbidity into one of joyfulness, a subject
of chaos into one of orderliness and serenity, a subject of dread into
one of great expectation. Moreover, I suspected that he would reply with
the standard scientific theory that NDEs are nothing more than hallucinations
of an oxygen-deprived brain, perhaps enhanced by drugs, and that other
psychic and paranormal experiences are figments of the imagination or just
plain bunk. If he were like most of my scientifically-minded friends and
acquaintances, he would most probably react with a cynical snicker at the
mere suggestion that he could possibly be so gullible as to even consider
so much folly and fantasy. Such snickers seem endemic to scientists and
other skeptics, especially those reared in orthodox religion but then "enlightened"
by college professors eager to ravage innocent minds and perhaps establish
themselves as mini gods.
I understand the scientific method and I know the scientific mindset,
but I must admit to not fully grasping why scientists are always looking
for reasons to reject survival evidence rather than for reasons to accept
it. It seems like it would be a much more positive approach to recognize
that there are things outside the scope of science, and to open the mind
to the likelihood that there is a spiritual world that cannot be completely
understood by the limited human intellect. The eminent Swiss psychiatrist
Carl Jung had this to say about such attitudes:
"In response to this understandable skepticism, I suggest the following
considerations: If there is something we cannot know, we must necessarily
abandon it as an intellectual problem. For example, I do not know or what
reason the universe has come into being, and shall never know. Therefore,
I must drop this question as a scientific or intellectual problems. But
if an idea about it is offered to me - in dreams or in mythic tradition
- I ought of take note of it. I even ought to build up a conception on
the basis of such hints, even though it will forever remain a hypothesis
which I know cannot be proved. A man should be able to say he has done
his best to form a conception of life after death, or to create some image
of it - even if he must confess his failure. Not to have done so is a vital
loss." (Jung 1989, 301-302)
As I drove home from the doctor's office, many thoughts concerning his
comments raced through my mind: He seems like a caring physician and
serves his fellow man in an very honorable way . Does it make any difference
what he believes? It would seem that a person who can do good without regard
to reward or punishment in an afterlife is a better person than one who
is motivated by such reward or punishment. Philosopher-psychologist
William James put it this way: "If religion be a function by which either
God's cause or man's cause is to be really advanced, then he who lives
the life of it, however narrowly, is a better servant than he who merely
knows about it, however much. Knowledge about life is one thing, effective
occupation of a place in life with its dynamic currents passing through
your being is another." (James 1961, 380)
On the other hand, my thoughts continued, will his attitude
about survival cause him to be earthbound or flounder in the lower ethers
in a state of unconsciousness or semiconsciousness, perhaps not even realizing
he is "dead," before at some future time - whatever form time takes or
doesn't take in that realm -awakening to his new surroundings? In The
Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, Sogyal Rinpoche wrote:
"The teachings make it clear that if all we know of mind is the aspect
of mind that dissolves when we die, we will be left with no idea of what
continues, no knowledge of the new dimension of the deeper reality of the
mind. So it is vital for us all to familiarize ourselves with the nature
of the mind while we are still alive. Only then will we be prepared when
it reveals itself spontaneously." (Rinpoche 1994, 12).
This Eastern belief is present in. much of Western mysticism, including
the teachings of Emanuel Swedenborg, the 18th Century scientist who abandoned
his scientific career at the age of 56 and devoted his remaining 30 years
to spiritual meditation and mediumistic trances in which he traveled out-of-body
to spiritual realms and conversed with spirits. He wrote:
"People who have not believed, in the world, in any life of the soul
after the life of the body, are acutely embarrassed when they realize that
they are alive. [They] make friends of others with like mind and are separate
from people who were in faith. For the most part, they are attached to
some hellish community, because people of this sort have denied the divine..."
(Swedenborg 1976, 349)
But even Swedenborg, said to be one of three people who might have had
an IQ higher than Einstein, gets that cynical snicker from most modern-day
scientists. There is the assumption that he must have crossed the line
that separates genius from lunacy
My thoughts about my doctor's beliefs continued: But even if he is
able to make a conscious transition to a comfortable realm on the "other
side," would it not be more consoling to him in his remaining years on
this plane to know that he has a soul that will live on? ....How does his
attitude toward survival influence his teenage children? Why bring children
into the world if all you can offer them is 20 some odd years of growing
under your tutelage before you cut them loose for 50 or 60 years of physical
decay and then total extinction? What a selfish and cruel act propagation
seems in that light.
As Jung saw it, the skeptic "marches toward nothingness" while the believer
"Follows the tracks of life and lives right to his death." (Jung, 306)
I wondered if my doctor might be one of those skeptics who claim to
be able to quell the inner voices, focus on the present, and live fully
without any trepidation toward what they must see as the obliteration of
the personality, all the while contributing to the welfare of society and
future generations. On the one hand, it seems like such a courageous and
unselfish attitude, but when we ask to what end the legacy, to what generation
full fruition, it seems more foolish and myopic. I suspect that William
James hit upon the truth of it when he wrote:
"I can, of course, put myself into the sectarian scientist's attitude,
and imagine vividly that the world of sensations and of scientific laws
and objects may be all. But when I do this, I hear that inward monitor
of which W. K. Clifford once wrote, whispering the word 'bosh!' Humbug
is humbug, even though it bear the scientific name, and the total expression
of human experience, as I view it objectively, invincibly urges me beyond
the narrow 'scientific' bounds." (James, 401)
As I continued to ponder my doctor's beliefs, a voice in my mind harshly
ordered me to halt. Who are you to judge? the voice scolded me.
Who
says you have it figured out? Are you not being a little self-righteous?
What are your qualifications to question anyone?
A somewhat softer voice intruded, but was in agreement with the first
voice. Just do your own thing. If the doctor and others like him choose
to stumble over their own egos, that's their problem.
But then a dissenting voice pushed its way between the other two. No,
that's not the attitude. This whole thing is about love, not romantic love,
but the caring and compassionate kind. How can one who anticipates total
extinction not have at least some deep-seated festering fears concerning
the future, whether he is fully conscious of them or not? You're not trying
to "save" hint. You're just trying to offer him a little comfort. How
call you possibly walk away from such an opportunity and still assume
that you are on the path of truth, the path of love? If you can just plant
a seed that might sprout at some later date, it is your duty to do it.
The Death Paradox
The mind rebelled at being an arena for such debate and proceeded to shut
off the voices, tuning back into the material world. A few days later,
however, the musing resumed as I attended the funeral of a neighbor. As
I observed the mourners, the words of French essayist Michel de Montaigne
came to mind:
"They come and they go and they trot and they dance, and never a word
about death. All well and good. Yet when death does come - to them, their
wives, their children, their friends - catching them unawares and unprepared,
then what storms of passion overwhelm them, what cries, what fury, what
despair!" (de Montaigne 1987, 95)
I couldn't help but wonder about the negativity associated with death
by most present and contrast that with the attitude of many people whose
views on death have changed following a near-death experience. I recalled
a video on NDEs in which several experiencers were interviewed. One of
them quipped that upon hearing of the death of a friend's father, he wanted
to say, "Well, good for him," but he decided it would be more appropriate
to offer condolences. Another comment that came to mind was that of John
Van Luyk, as reported by author Ian Currie:
"I can hardly find words for it - the most beautiful experience of my
life. I had the most peaceful, contented feeling - but I wish there were
different words available to describe it. If you called it peaceful to
the 10th power- that would be getting close to it. When they jolted me
out of that, I was really mad. The experience changed my whole outlook
on death. I think very different of it now - I'm not afraid of it at all.
As a matter of fact, I sometimes tell my kids that dying is the most beautiful
experience you can have but they look at me as if I'm some kind of nut.
So far as death is concerned, I can recommend it to anybody." (Currie 1992,
202)
As I resumed reading the book I had taken to my doctor's office, Lessons
from the Light, by Kenneth Ring and Evelyn Elsaesser Valarino, I came
upon Dr. Ring's discussion of veridicality studies, those which have in
some way been corroborated by witnesses and are not simply unsupported
individual reports. Ring, one of the founders of the International Association
of Near-Death Studies, begins with the now well-known "shoe on the ledge"
case. In that NDE, a woman who had suffered a severe heart attack while
visiting relatives in Seattle had an out-of-body experience during a cardiac
arrest in the hospital. While still recovering in her hospital bed, she
told a social worker of her OBE and how she had looked down from the ceiling
watching the medical team at work on her before suddenly finding herself
outside the hospital. She vividly recalled seeing a tennis shoe on the
ledge of the third floor. She described the shoe in detail to the skeptical
social worker, who checked it out and found the shoe in the exact place
and exactly as the patient had described it. The social worker concluded
that the patient could have in no way seen the shoe otherwise.
While such veridical NDEs are understandably few, it is a bit difficult
to write off the hundreds of other documented cases as mere hallucinations.
It does seem very strange that dying brains would have such very similar
hallucinations. One would think that the variety of hallucinations would
be as diverse as nightly dreams. It is also difficult to believe that the
"being of light," the instantaneous life review, and the conscious decision
as to whether to return to the body or not, common among many near-death
experiencers, are all neurological effects or hallucinations. NDE researcher
Pamela M. Kircher, M.D., writes:
"When people undergo a life review, each instant in their lives is reviewed,
not just the 'big' ones. They find that it matters how they treat people
in the grocery line or on the freeway. In the life review, they often experience
the event, from their own perspective and from the perspective of the person
with whom they were interacting." (Kircher 1995, 94)
Tom Sawyer, a Rochester, N.Y. resident who had an NDE in 1978 when his
pickup truck fell on him as he worked under it, tells of reliving an encounter
with a man he almost hit with his hotrod when he was 19. The pedestrian
said something to him, which prompted Sawyer to get out of his vehicle
and assault the man. During his life review, Sawyer, who says he was an
avowed agnostic before his NDE, experienced the attack from the victim's
perspective.
"[I experienced my] fist come directly into my face. And I felt the
indignation, the rage, the embarrassment, the frustration, the physical
pain. I felt my teeth going through my lower lip - in other words I was
in that man's eyes. I was in that man's body..." (Farr 1993, 33)
More than the experience itself, NDE researchers point to the after
effects of the experience as proof that these are not mere hallucinations.
Ring observes:
".....we know that the NDE tends to bring about lasting changes
in personal values and beliefs: NDErs appreciate life more fully, experience increased feelings of self-worth, have a more compassionate regard
for others and, indeed, for all life, develop a heightened ecological sensitivity, and report a decrease in purely materialistic and self-seeking
values. Their religious orientation tends to change, too, and becomes more
universalistic, inclusive, and spiritual in expression." (Ring 1998, 4)
Surely, the skeptics cannot believe that such transformation is simply
a neurological happening. Perhaps some of them believe that experiencers
like Tom Sawyer are embellishing their stories so that they can sell books
or otherwise profit from them. Does the skeptic truly believe that Carl
Jung contrived his NDE in order to profit from it? Jung's NDE in 1944 came
after he broke his foot and then had a heart attack. He recalled visualizing
the earth from high above it and experiencing everything he had ever done
and everything that had ever happened to him. In reflecting on his NDE,
Jung wrote:
"I would never have imagined that any such experience was possible.
It was not a product of my imagination. The visions and experiences were
utterly real; there was nothing subjective about them; they all had a quality
of absolute objectivity." Jung, 291)
Subdued Smirks
A few days later, as I watched the movie Saving Private Ryan, my thoughts
returned to death. An early scene showed a foot soldier having his arm
blown off as he charged the enemy on the Normandy beach. Yet, he continued
to run, seemingly unaware that he had lost a member of his body. I recalled
seeing photographs of the phantom counterparts of missing limbs and reading
credible accounts of people who, shortly after amputation of a leg, forgot
to use their crutches and then walked several steps on their phantom legs.
The thoughts flowed: With all the evidence to support the existence
of an astral body - soul body, spirit body, etheric body, double, whatever
name be assigned to it (or even a third body reported by some) - why does
mainstream science turn its head and not attempt to examine the relationship
here between the NDE and that phantom counterpart? Why does science not
make a real effort to study people who have the ability to loosen the astral
body from the physical body and have out-of-body experiences? Their numbers
are not limited to those having NDEs or to the likes of Swedenborg, Oliver
Fox, Sylvan Muldoon, Frederick Sculthorp and other well-documented astral
projectionists of the past; there are so many now incarnate who have this
ability. Moreover, there are reportedly many doctors and nurses who have
witnessed deathbed apparitions of the dying person. Why can't science see
the links?
While the movie was set in World War II, my thoughts wandered back to
World War I and to the esteemed British physicist Sir Oliver Lodge and
his book, Raymond or Life and Death. I recalled how an agnostic
friend had been scanning the books in my personal library during a party
in my home and had randomly pulled Raymond from the shelf to browse it.
To satisfy his curiosity, I explained how Lodge's son, Raymond, had been
killed on the battlefield in France and had communicated with Lodge through
the famous medium Gladys Osborne Leonard. I mentioned the evidential material
that Lodge received, information that no one but Raymond had knowledge
of, and which was later verified by the elder Lodge as being true. I explained
to my guest how Lodge, one of the most respected scientists of the early
part of this Century, subjected all of the information to every scientific
test before eventually concluding, beyond a reasonable doubt, that his
disincamate son had actually communicated with him through Leonard. But
my guest, whose attitude on such matters is "I have to see it to believe
it," responded with only a subdued smirk and shake of his head. Later,
after my guests had departed, I pulled Raymond back off the shelf
and began rereading some of Lodge's words, including these:
"Death is not a word to fear, any more than birth is. We change our
state at birth, and come into the world of air and sense and myriad existence;
we change our state at death and enter a region of - what? Of ether, I
think, and still more myriad existence; a region in which communion is
more akin to what we here call telepath, and where intercourse is not conducted
by the accustomed indirect physical processes; but a region in which beauty
and knowledge are as vivid as they are here: a region in which progress
is possible, and in which 'admiration, hope and love' are even more real
and dominant." (Lodge 1916, 296)
Sympathetic Smiles
My musing continued but with a 180 degree shift. Rather than the obstinacy
of the skeptic, my thoughts turned to the credulity of my aging parents.
Since all they have been taught by the Catholic Church is a heaven in which
Jesus walks on clouds and angels play harps, a hell in which the devil
reigns supreme over an inferno, and in between a purgatory which is just
as bad as hell except that it is not eternal, it is understandable why
they look upon death as that "voracious monster" of which Fairchilde spoke.
Moreover, they have been taught that except perhaps for Mother Teresa and
a saintly few like her, everyone who is "saved" must spend some time, possibly
decades or centuries, in the flames of purgatory. How can anyone anticipating
such an environment not look upon death with fear and great anxiety?
The thoughts raced through my mind during a visit with my parents: How
is it possible for the Church to have done such a poor job in preparing
its faithful for death? How can I possibly share with them what I have
come to understand about the "other side" without rocking the foundations
of their faith? If I can convince them that the Church has given them a
distorted picture of the afterlife, will it cause them to lose faith altogether
and perhaps become even more fearful and anxious in their final years?
Is it better to say nothing? What chance is there that they will accept
what I want to tell them when it is not consistent with what they have
been told by popes and priests? How can their son, a "heathen" who hasn't
attended Mass in 30 years and leans toward a belief in reincarnation, possibly
know about such things?
I wanted to share with them the discoveries of Swedenborg, Leonard,
Edgar Cayce, Alice Bailey, Rudolf Steiner, and other mystics or clairvoyants
who were able to "cross through the veil" while still incarnate and then
report on it. I wanted to share with them how their discoveries strongly
suggests various planes, spheres, or realms making up the nonmaterial world.
I wanted to tell them how so much of this is apparently beyond the human
vocabulary and why therefore the Church was forced to use imagery through
metaphors, similes, and symbols to describe it. I wanted to tell them how
that "fire" the church has indoctrinated them with is really a "fire of
the mind" on the very low planes, what they would call hell. I wanted to
read to them the words of Alvin Mattson, a Lutheran minister, who made
his transition in 1970, as channeled through the British clairvoyant Margaret
Flavell Tweddell. Mattson, who found himself on an intermediate plane,
reported:
"From this point we can progress to higher planes - to higher levels
of consciousness. By 'higher' planes I do not mean spatially higher but
rather those planes which have a finer vibration... The astral world is
almost a replica of your world, except that it is of a finer substance
and we are not 'bound' by our objective reality as you are. On the astral
plane we are conscious of our personalities and the modes of life we carried
out on earth. Therefore, we have denominations on this plane and we continue
to practice the rites of our respective churches ...On numerous occasions
since I arrived here, I have been permitted to go into the higher planes
where there is a unity of God-praise, not a segregation of the praise of
God." (Taylor 1975, 41-44)
I wanted to tell my parents how even St. Paul talked about a plurality
of heavens (2. COR 12:2-4). I wanted to tell them that those intermediate
planes, what they call purgatory, are reportedly quite pleasant, not a
blazing inferno. I wanted to tell them that a belief in out-of-body travel,
channeling, and other psychic phenomena, does not mean forsaking Jesus
or the Bible. I wanted to mention how Swedenborg, Sculthorp, Sawyer, and
Mattson all met Jesus during their out-of-body travels. Since my parents
put doctors on a pedestal with priests, I wanted to tell them about George
G. Ritchie, M.D., who had an NDE in 1943, and how he encountered Jesus
as a brilliant light:
"For now I saw that it was not light but a Man made out of light, though
this seemed no more possible to my mind than the incredible intensity of
the brightness that made up His form." (Ritchie 1978, 48-49)
I wanted to tell them how Dr. Ritchie, like so many others, also saw
every moment of his life played out before him. I wanted to tell them how
Mattson reported seeing Jesus:
"When I first saw Him, the light and the glory and the surging of power
was so tremendous. It was like an avalanche of feeling over me. At the
present time I just don't feel that I have found a way in which to describe
what it was like - an indescribable contentment and uplifting, a tremendous
ecstasy of feeling on all planes, being completely out of yourself, an
unusually vivid knowledge of the intense, sympathetic love around you -the
warmth of it, the light of it - something that is not external but is part
of you. It s like a sunrise on a mountain that is covered with snow, when
the colors come down and reflect on you - a dazzling brilliance that would
make you close your eyes and yet feel it in every pore or your body. This
is the feeling that you have as you come toward the LIGHT." (Taylor, 36-37)
As some evidence that these encounters with Jesus were not mere hallucinations,
I wanted to tell my parents that Ritchie, Mattson, Sculthorp, and others
all mentioned that Jesus did not look exactly like the pictures we have
of Him; and yet, they still knew it was Him. There was so much I wanted
to say, but I knew it would bring only sympathetic smiles. My success in
communicating with my parents was no greater than with my doctor or my
house guest. I again considered my duty or responsibility, if any, in this
regard and recalled the words of Alice Gilbert, which she says were telepathically
transmitted to her by her son Philip from the "other side":
"To follow another soul into the mire, to walk by its side there protecting
it from the ultimate dregs - this must not be done even by love. Each soul
has to trudge alone - only so, it can learn to fly." (Gilbert 1948, 25)
The musing continued, however: Does my interest in this subject indicate
a twisted personality, as some would suggest? Does it detract from the
"real life" things I am or should be involved with? Does it interfere with
grasping the lessons of this lifetime? Could it be that 1 am the blind
one, not them? Am I the spiritually-challenged one? Or perhaps the reality-challenged?
To each question, my answer, after some deliberation, is always a definitive,
if not totally objective, "NO!" To "practice" death for an hour or so a
day, as I usually do, seems no less important than the hour a day I give
to physical exercise to better enrich the quality of this lifetime. As
de Montaigne wrote:
"To practice death is to practice freedom. A man who has learned how
to die has unlearned how to be a slave. Knowing how to die gives us freedom
from subjection and constraint." (de Montaigne, 96)
And yet I am constrained slightly by those cynical snickers, those subdued
smirks, those sympathetic smiles of my associates, friends, and relatives.
Whenever I feel so constrained, though, I recall the reaction of Professor
James to such skepticism: BOSH!
Still, I concern myself with the spiritually challenged and wonder if
I should resign myself to emulating an unidentified victim of the Titanic
(possibly W. T. Stead, the spiritualist) whose heartfelt story was told
by Colonel Archibald Gracie, a survivor. After the ship had gone down,
some of those left swimming, including Gracie, climbed on a capsized auxiliary
raft. Gracie later told of a moment, referring to it as "a transcendent
piece of heroism that will remain fixed in my memory as the most sublime
and coolest exhibition of courage and cheerful resignation to fate and
fearlessness of death." When the "hero," swimming in the 28-degree
cold, approached the raft, someone shouted that there was no room for him.
The unidentified man calmly responded: "All right, boys; good luck and
God bless you!"
Bibliography
Currie, Ian, 1992, Visions of Immortality, Element Books, Victoria,
B.C
De Montaigne, Michel, 1987 The Complete Essays, Penguin Books,
New York.
Fairchilde, Lily, 1997, Voices from the Afterlife, St. Martin's
Griffin, New York
Farr, Sidney Saylor, 1993, What Tom Sawyer Learned from Dying,
Hampton Roads
Publishing Co., Norfolk, VA.
Gilbert, Alice, 1948, Philip in Two Worlds, Andrew Dakers Limited,
London
Gracie, Archibald, 1960, The Story of the Titanic as Told by Its
Survivors, Dover
Publications, New York
James, William, 1961, The Varieties of Religions Experience,
Collier Books, New
York
Jung, C.G., 1989, Memories, Dreams, Reflections, Vintage Books,
New York
Keller, Helen, 1994, Light in My Darkness, Chrysalis Books,
West Chester, PA
Kircher, Pamela, 1995, Love is the Link, Larson Publications,
Burdett, NY
Lodge, Oliver, 1916, Raymond or Life and Death, George H. Doran
Co., New York
Ring, Kenneth, 1998, Lessons from the Light, Insight Books,
New York
Rinpochi, Sogyal, 1994, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying,
Harper San
Francisco
Ritchie, George, 1978, My Glimpse of Eternity, Guideposts, Carmel,
NY
Swedenborg, Emanuel, 1976, Heaven & Hell, Swedenborg Foundation,
W.Chester, PA
Taylor, Ruth, 1975, Witness from Beyond, Foreward Books, So.
Portland, Maine
Reprint requests to:
Michael E. Tymn
641 Keolu Drive,
Kailua, HI 96734
808-262-6604
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